


The Ornament

by BeccaAnne814



Series: Steve Rogers x Reader Series [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Probably a curse word or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22278274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaAnne814/pseuds/BeccaAnne814
Summary: To some, an ornament is just something to hang on the Christmas tree, but to Steve it’s a reminder of someone he used to love.  Memories are a wonderful thing, but sometimes it’s nice to have a physical reminder of better days.
Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader
Series: Steve Rogers x Reader Series [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/774303
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	The Ornament

**Steve Rogers X Reader**

**Summary** – To some, an ornament is just something to hang on the Christmas tree, but to Steve it’s a reminder of someone he used to love. Memories are a wonderful thing, but sometimes it’s nice to have a physical reminder of better days.

**Warnings** – Angst, Fluff. . .probably a curse word or two

**Word Count** – 1.9K

**Notes **\- At the end.

_ ** [Masterlist](https://beccaanne814.tumblr.com/post/174989754188/masterlist) ** _

[[MORE]]

Cold.

Not just any cold, but soul-crushing, bone-numbing cold.

He'd thought the winters he'd suffered through in Brooklyn before the serum had been cold, but nothing compared to the sub-zero temperatures of the Arctic he was facing at the moment. He'd kept the ship powered up as long as he could, but eventually the fuel had run out and the cold had started creeping in. 

There was a part of him that still hoped for a last second rescue, but he wasn't holding out for a miracle—they probably thought he was already dead. He wished he was already dead. The most he could hope for now was that his body would succumb to the frigid temperatures and take him on to the next world sooner rather than later.

He'd paced the length of the ship in a vain effort to stay warm, but eventually his joints had begun to ache and the pain got to be too much for him to bear. Picking a random spot, he finally allowed himself to lie down and let the cold have him. He'd done everything he could to stop Schmidt and he could rest easy knowing that world would live to see another day—even if he wouldn't.

Shivers had racked his body once he'd stopped moving, but he'd remembered what those had felt like. It was when the shivers stopped that he knew he was coming to the end. His body had shut down enough by that point that he couldn't feel the cold anymore, but it wasn't a comforting feeling.

What he hadn't been prepared for was the fatigue. He hadn't realized how exhausting it was to freeze to death, and he almost chuckled at the thought. Knowing his time on earth was almost up, he opened his eyes one last time. The inside of the ship wasn't the most scenic view to go out on, but he felt like he needed to have one last look at his final resting place.

There was a hole in the side of the ship and if he craned his neck, he could just make out the sun as it dipped toward the horizon. The way it reflected off the snow made him think of the last Christmas he'd spent with his mother. 

She'd hadn't told him yet that she was sick, so he'd been confused when all of a sudden she'd started getting weaker and weaker. They always decorated the tree together—taking the time to appreciate each and every ornament that they hung on the tiny spruce Bucky showed up with every year.

There was one ornament in particular that his mother loved the most. It was clear glass with hand painted golden feathers sweeping up from the bottom. His father had given it to her the year they'd found out she was pregnant with Steve.

When Sarah had reached up to hang it on the tree, it had slipped from her fingers and shattered onto the floor in a thousand pieces. That's when he knew something was wrong and he'd finally forced her to tell him the truth about her illness.

Looking at the setting sun, Steve could almost imagine that it was that ornament made whole again. He knew he was starting to hallucinate, but at least the visions were beautiful to behold.

Closing his eyes, he finally allowed himself to start to drift off. His body was shutting down, but his mind wasn't ready to let go just yet. Memory after memory poured out of his subconscious and played through his mind's eye like a picture show.

He remembered the one crisp fall morning that Bucky's father, George, had decided to take them both hunting in the woods outside of the city. He'd sat them both down and lectured them for what had seemed like hours. He remembered Bucky complaining later that day that he'd felt like he'd been back at school. There had been other weekends spent in the woods with Bucky and his dad, and Steve had always been grateful for the way his friend's family had taken him and his mother under their wing.

Thinking of Bucky brought back the pain of losing him, so he forced those newer memories to the back of his mind and focused on the earlier times. He wanted to remember the happy times he'd had growing up in Brooklyn, but for some reason he couldn't distance himself from the pain.

Knowing that he was dying made him think back on the day he'd buried his mother. Most of the day was a blur, but one image stood out in his mind—Bucky's mother. Winifred Barnes was a beautiful woman with Bucky's blue eyes and long blonde hair, like Rebecca's, that she normal kept tied in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. On the day of the funeral, though, she'd worn it down with a large black hat and her signature pearls—they weren't real, but they were the best she had.

Steve remembered Bucky finding him after the funeral and the words he'd spoken to him. "I'm with you till the end of the line." Back then, Steve had thought he'd be the first one to reach the end of the line, but the serum had changed all that for him. He'd thought he was invincible, but as he lay dying in the cold of the Arctic, he realized that he was as human as the rest of the world.

He finally allowed himself to think of Bucky. Had he felt this cold as he fell to his death? Had he had time to relive moments in his life, or had it been over too quickly for reminiscing?

As Steve's breathing became more labored, he had one final thought—if this truly was the end of the line, at least he'd have Bucky waiting for him on the other side.

_______________

_Thank you for reading Day 16 of my writing challenge! I hope you enjoyed it! So, this one doesn’t have a Reader yet, but I didn't want to make the woman in the photo be the Reader since I know I have a very diverse group of followers. Plus, I think this story had more of an impact without adding in a love interest—even Peggy. It's a little heavy on the angst, but that's my go-to! Is anyone not crying right now? I look forward to your comments!_

YN had listened to Steve's stories about the ornament, but it wasn't until she found his sketchbook lying open on his desk that she could finally appreciate its beauty. Steve didn't talk about his mother when she'd been sick, so it hadn't been until Bucky came back into his life that he brought that time period up at all. Bucky's memories were a jumbled mess and Steve was desperate to help him put the pieces back together.

When Bucky had first mentioned the ornament, YN had been curious, but she'd let the two men go through their memories without her interference. When Steve had quietly reminded Bucky that Sarah had dropped it the Christmas before she'd died, she could tell that its loss was hard on both men.

But when Steve told Bucky that he'd seen the ornament in a vision just before he'd succumbed to the Arctic's frigid temperatures, she'd known she would do anything in her power to give that memento back to Steve. She'd waited patiently for him to start drawing it because she wanted it to be a surprise. It hadn't taken long, but YN knew Steve always sketched to help him deal with his stress—and his stress levels had been through the roof since Bucky had returned to New York.

Pulling out her phone, she snapped a few pictures of the drawing and sent them to the artisan she'd commissioned for this project. It might not be the exact same ornament, but Steve would cherish it as though it was.

By the time Christmas morning rolled around, she was a nervous wreck. She'd picked up the ornament a few days before the holiday and it was as breathtaking as she imagined the original had been. She'd paid extra to have the feathers curving up from the base painted in actual gold leaf instead of gold colored paint. It might have seemed like a ridiculous extravagance to some, but she knew gold paint might chip and peel over time and she wanted this ornament to last. Carefully wrapping it up, she hid it in her room lest someone accidentally break it while it lie under the tree in the common room.

"Before we join the others, there's something I want to give you," she told Steve as he started for the door.

His face instantly started turning red and she chuckled as she realized where his mind had gone.

"It's nothing bad," she assured him as she opened the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out the little cube wrapped in red and silver paper.

Somehow sensing that the package was delicate, Steve cradled it in his hands and carefully began peeling the paper. "What is it?"

"You'll see."

Once the paper had been removed, he flipped open the lid and she heard his breath catch. She held her own as she waited to see what he thought of her gift.

"It's just like Mom's," he whispered as he pulled the ornament from the package. "How did you. . .?"

She smiled as tears began welling up in the corners of her eyes. "You and Bucky were talking about it a few weeks ago and then I found a sketch you'd drawn."

He placed the ornament back in the box and then pulled her into his arms. "I don't have the words to tell you what this means to me other than I love you."

"I love you, too," she answered as she met his lips with her own.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you, YN. Not only for me, but for Bucky as well. He needs all the reminders he can get and he'd always admired this ornament. This will mean the world to him as well."

"He means the world to you, so I'm just happy that I can help in some small way."

Steve closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't deserve you, but I'm glad you're too blinded by my devilish good looks to figure that out for yourself."

"Oh, is that right?" she asked with a chuckle. 

He gave her a wink and started pulling her toward the door. "C'mon, let's go join the others so I can give you your present."

The blush that started creeping up his neck again made her think she knew exactly what he had hidden under the tree. She had a feeling his present for her would also be sparkly and gold, but it wouldn't be something to hang on the Christmas tree. Determined not to ruin his surprise, she pretended she didn't notice as she laced her fingers with his.

______________________

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading Day 342 of my writing challenge. I hope you enjoyed it! When I wrote the story for Day 16, I had no plans to write another part until I saw this prompt. It just seemed fitting that the Reader would have the ornament made for Steve since the original had meant so much. Do you agree? I look forward to your comments, and if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging!_


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